Dear Friend
by feeks
Summary: Draco has to kill Dumbledore. He needs someone and finds a "friend" by writing letters. Little does he know that these letters are going to Hermione Granger. Little does she know that the letters she receives are form Draco Malfoy. But they help. The letters help. (Inspired by Perks of Being a Wallflower with a slight twist/I suck at summaries, the story is better, promise )
1. Chapter 1

_A/N- Hey lovelies! So this a story I've been trying to get together for a long time now and I actually have a few chapters already done, so I'd like to upload them within the hour. I've posted this story before, but I took it down, and now, I think I'm ready to keep it up (it's been majorly improved and I'm actually kind of okay with it now) and keep it going. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW, it'll keep me motivated to update faster, I promise. :)) xxxxx _

* * *

_Steady breaths. Deep steady breaths_. Draco Malfoy found himself looking at what seemed to be his reflection in the mirror. But he didn't see _himself._ He saw someone weak. Pathetic. This wasn't him. No, Draco Malfoy was not weak... he was never weak. It made him sick to think that the person staring back at him was indeed _him._ The bags under his eyes were hard to miss; he hadn't kept count of the number of days he had gone without sleep. He was thinner than usual, much thinner. He lacked all signs of being healthy.

But could one be healthy when his manor held home to the most notorious, most wanted criminals on the planet? Nothing about his situation was butterflies and rainbows. He should have had the right to look like shit when his whole life was spiraling. But if it was one thing his father had taught him, it was to not look weak. He couldn't. His whole life he had been taught, trained, urged to put on this act, simple in theory, not so much in reality. He had to make it seem like he had no emotions. That was supposed to be power. Looking into that mirror, he didn't see power. Frustrated, he punched the glass, shattering the mirror and his knuckles.

_What the fuck is wrong with you?_

The words echoed in his head over and over. The Dark Lord was clear on what is task was.

_"If you don't kill him, I'll kill you."_

Draco had no problem sending hexes at undesirable people like Potter and his friends, but could he really kill a human being? This wasn't going to put the old man in a hospital bed. This was going to put him in a hole in the ground. And what would become of _him?_ What would become of Draco? Would he make the headlines next morning? _16 Year Old Draco Malfoy, Responsible for Murder of one of the Most Beloved Wizards in the Wizarding Community._

Sighing, he looked down at his dresser where a family picture was sitting. Draco was merely a child and his dad had gotten him his first broom for Christmas. His mother's eyes were happy, lively. Something they had lacked recently. His dad had his usual smirk on his face, but there was something different about his expression. It was his eyes. They were soft. And Draco. Draco was happy; laughing even, when his little chubby hands claimed the broomstick that was cleverly wrapped in what seemed millions of layers of wrapping paper.

_What had happened?_

The end of fourth year and the rest of fifth year and now sixth year had happened. The Dark Lord had finally come back, and _surprise_, his father was a loyal follower. The summer after fifth year had been hell, simply put. His house became the sort of "safe haven" for the death eaters and the Dark Lord himself. He had learned the three unforgivables. He was forced to practice on house elves. Although never really fond of Dobby, he was glad the house elf had escaped when he did... the elf used to sneak him cookies when he was around five years old. It was a nice thing to do.

Sighing, he pulled up his sleeve. There it was. The Dark Mark. The loss of his innocence, the beginning of the downward spiral. He did something in that moment that would get him killed if he weren't in his room. He looked at the Dark Mark in disgust. He never wanted it... but his father had.

He tore his gaze from the tinted forearm to the family photo and exhaled.

It was because of them that he was doing this, and only for them. Draco knew that his whole family had a death sentence looming over their heads, and he knew that the only way to keep that at bay was to do as he was told. And that was the very reason he was going to try. If he knew one thing for certain in the midst of the mess, it was that he had to protect his family. Blood was thicker than water after all, wasn't it? But sometimes, he couldn't help but think it was because of his family that he was in this mess in the first place.

It was beyond him as to why his father chose this. He was angry, furious even, at his father for making him do this. For him being involved with the Dark Lord and bringing that into his life. Was he ever going to be happy? Draco scoffed.

_No Draco, emotions are for the weak. You don't want to be fucking happy. Happy doesn't exist in this world._

He hated himself for it, but no matter how many times he fed that line to his mind, it always came back to contradict itself. What was happiness in the first place? How did he know it didn't exist? Why did all the magical tales that his mom read him say "_And they lived happily ever after."_ at the end? He wanted answers. He wanted to feel this... happy.

Maybe that's why he found his legs carrying him to his desk, and maybe that's why he began to write. Write a letter. To whom? Who knew? Would they read it? Maybe, maybe not.

There was a barrier between his emotions and what he made himself out to be in others' minds. That barrier had been strong for a while. His father taught him to keep it strong. But at that moment, he wrote. The barrier was forgotten, and for once, he wrote exactly what he felt. All the emotions that had been brewing inside of him turned into a full blown storm as ink made contact with parchment.

_To whoever receives this letter,_

_I don't know who you are; I don't know what your life story is. I don't know what you have done in your life or who you have become or what people perceive you to be. You don't know who I am. You don't know about the things I've done. You don't know what my situation is like. I think that might be for the best. If you knew who I was, you would probably burn this letter as soon as you got it. Not that I blame you. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I know I am probably deranged for sending this letter, but to be completely honest with you, I am past the point of caring. The thing is... I am assuming you know what happiness is. I don't know what it is... or at least I don't think I do. Is it all true? Does it really exist? I have a task to fulfill... it's not one you would normally get. But it must be done for the good of the people... for the well being of my family. You see... I am someone who shouldn't care about these types of things. I shouldn't feel. I shouldn't be sympathizing. That's not what power is... and yet... I do it. I don't know what I am going to do; I don't know how I'm going to do it. All I know is that I have something to do. I wasn't instructed on how to do it. I just have to do it. But what if I don't want to do it? I'm not supposed to care. To be completely honest, I don't even know why I am sending this letter...perhaps it is because I know I will go mad if I don't put these thoughts somewhere._

_Sincerely, _

_Somebody._

With that, Draco rolled up the parchment and tied it up. He then proceeded to attach the letter of his owl and opened the window.

"Take it to whoever it should go to."

He had no idea that the owl would be taking that letter to a certain studious muggleborn witch.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's chapter two for you guys! Thanks to the people who have already favorited/suscribed to the story! It means the world! Enjoy!_

_xxx_

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when Hermione heard the tapping on her window. She was curled up in bed, reading her book, so when the sudden noise drew her out of her fictional world, she found herself a bit annoyed. Nonetheless, she got up and opened her window to find an owl she didn't recognize blinking back at her. It wasn't the usual Hedwig or Pigwidegeon. It wasn't even Earl. It was a snowy white owl though, beautiful.

It held out its leg towards her, beckoning her to take the letter. She eyed it as she carefully untied the letter. With one final glance at the owl, she untied it gently and began to read.

_To whoever receives this letter,_

_I don't know who you are; I don't know what your life story is. I don't know what you have done in your life or who you have become or what people perceive you to be. You don't know who I am. You don't know about the things I've done. You don't know what my situation is like. I think that might be for the best. If you knew who I was, you would probably burn this letter as soon as you got it. Not that I blame you. It's not anyone's fault but mine. I know I am probably deranged for sending this letter, but to be completely honest with you, I am past the point of caring. The thing is... I am assuming you know what happiness is. I don't know what it is... or at least I don't think I do. Is it all true? Does it really exist? I have a task to fulfill... it's not one you would normally get. But it must be done for the good of the people... for the well being of my family. You see... I am someone who shouldn't care about these types of things. I shouldn't feel. I shouldn't be sympathizing. That's not what power is... and yet... I do it. I don't know what I am going to do; I don't know how I'm going to do it. All I know is that I have something to do. I wasn't instructed on how to do it. I just have to do it. But what if I don't want to do it? I'm not supposed to care. To be completely honest, I don't even know why I am sending this letter...perhaps it is because I know I will go mad if I don't put these thoughts somewhere._

_Sincerely,_

_Somebody._

A small frown graced the features of the young witch's face. Who was this? Why had this owl come here? She didn't understand. What was the task? With all these questions came one conclusion. This was obviously a death eater. _But who? _

"Hermione, darling! Dinner's ready!" Her mother's call snapped her out of her thoughts. Hurriedly, she folded up the letter in fourths and stuck it in the book she had previously been reading as a bookmark.

She looked around her room, as if to clear any evidence, which she didn't know why she was considering she hadn't committed a crime, but something inside her felt it necessary to. Her eyes fell to the owl who was now watching her curiously. She bit her lip. "Don't you go just yet, I'll be back."

She nodded to herself a bit before walking out of her room and closing the door behind her. She then proceeded to descend the stairs two at a time. Once she made it to the ground floor, she found herself engulfed in hugs.

"MIONE."

"Harry?! Ron?! What are you two doing here?" She laughed, a bit surprised.

Harry chuckled. "We decided to stop by and see you! We missed you. And you know, owling each other just isn't the same. Your mum asked us to stay for dinner-"

"So we accepted of course!" Ron grinned, interrupting Harry.

Hermione laughed, "Let me guess. Ron said yes in a heartbeat to dinner?"

Her mother laughed, "Well of course dear, no one can resist my famous cooking."

"Seriously 'Mione. It smells amazing here. Your mum is a fantastic cook!" That she was.

As soon as the trio had caught up with each other, they all situated themselves around the table to eat dinner. Hermione's mother wasn't kidding when she said no one could resist her cooking. She truly went overboard when she cooked dinner on Friday nights, and it seemed they always had company. Often it would be her parent's friends, but today Harry and Ron had made the visit, and she was happy that they had. Beside a few owls and a few gatherings at the Weasley residence, she hadn't seen much of her two best friends.

Soon the topic had turned to school.

"Are you guys ready for another year?" Hermione asked.

"No... I was just beginning to enjoy my summer. I don't want to see Snape's face again. How much are you willing to bet that he will find some way to get me in trouble in the first five minutes of class?" Ron moaned.

Harry laughed slightly, "As much as I don't want to see Snape, I am rather glad to get back home. I've missed the castle. "

Hermione smiled. She knew Harry's summer had been rough. He had been given Siruis's house along with his house elf, and Hermione could only imagine what it would be like for Harry to step in the house again. He took it pretty bad when Sirius died, and really, who could blame him? Sirius was his godfather, and now he had lost him too. Taking a look at the dark haired boy, one would think that he was a normal, functioning human being. Hermione knew better though. Harry had told her about his dreams through owls. And while he tried not to make it too obvious, the boy had a lot of weight on his chest. Hermione could see that.

She smiled slightly and placed her right hand over his left on the table. He smiled slightly at her and nodded, as to reassure her that he was okay.

Hermione was also aware that Harry was staying at the Burrow with Ron. It must have been nice to be surrounded by the Weasleys... As her trail of thought grew, so did the slight smile that was on her face.

"Dearest Mother and Father?" Hermione started sweetly.

Her father raised an eyebrow and her mother pursed her lips.

"She wants something doesn't she, James?" Her mother said to her father.

Her father chuckled and nodded, "I think I know what she wants too..."

"Can I please please please please please stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer?! Harry and Ron are both there! And I haven't seen them all summer!"

Ron and Harry's eyes lit up.

"Yes, Mr. Granger! Let her go! She will be in good hands, we promise!" Harry said

Ron added, "And my mother will take good care of her! And plus Ginny's there! And Hermione hasn't seen Ginny in ages!"

Her mother thought about it for a moment, "Well, I suppose it could be okay..."

Hermione jumped up. "Oh thank you! Thank you!"

"Just be safe... we know what's going on in the Wizarding World Hermione..." Her father started.

"I will Father... I promise you. Plus there's nowhere safer than the Burrow." She smiled reassuringly at both at her parents.

Her mother smiled at her, "We trust that fully. Now, go on dear, get packing, and don't forget your toothbrush."

"I won't Mother, I'll be back in a few!" Hermione grinned and climbed the stairs two at a time until she reached her bedroom.

Quickly, she started packing her clothes and her books. As she finished, she scanned the room to see that the owl was still perched on her window sill, its head tilted to the side watching her curiously.

_Crap, the letter._

She rushed over to her desk and picked up her quill. Dipping it in ink, she wrote a response to the letter that she had received earlier in the afternoon and put it in a white envelope, attaching it to the owl's leg.

The owl flew off once the letter was securely on its leg. With a sigh, Hermione locked her window and picked up her suitcase. Looking around one last time, she turned off the lights to her room and headed downstairs once again.

Ron helped her with her suitcase and Harry bid farewell to her parents. One last kiss on the cheek and a hug later, Hermione was out the door. They walked a few blocks to a toy store where Mr. Weasley had been entertained for quite a while, before apparating back the Burrow.

* * *

Draco lay in bed that night when he heard his owl return. He sighed, getting up and letting the owl in. The owl hooted and motioned to the letter attached to his leg.

Draco looked at the owl curiously. "They wrote back?"

Carefully, he opened the letter.

_Dear Someone, _

_I don't know who you are, but just know that these are hard times. For everyone. But things will get better soon. There's always light at the end of the tunnel right? And if you haven't found that light, then you're not at the end yet. Have hope that things will be better. Consider me a friend from now on. _

_-A Friend_

The letter gave Draco a sense of comfort. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was still there. He carefully slid it back into the envelope and put it under his pillow. Millions of questions flooded his thoughts. Who had written back? Who had received the letter in the first place? Was this safe? The first two questions, he didn't know the answer to. The last, he knew so well. Whoever this person was, was putting themselves at risk, owling back. Surely, someone with common sense would know that. It puzzled Draco that even after knowing that, he got a response. This only peeked his curiosity of who the person behind the handwriting on the parchment was.

He shook his head, to clear it. He had more important things to concentrate on. He wouldn't owl back. He needed his full concentration on his goal

His fucking goal.. He frowned slightly. His goal? Was it his goal? It was his to carry out, but no... he didn't want to. It wasn't his goal. It was an order.

_Kill him or I'll kill you._

Six simple words. Six simple words that terrified him. And he hated it with every single inch of hate that one could hold in their being.

_Three more days, Draco. Then you're back at Hogwarts. _

Then he would have to start plotting, seeking after what The Dark Lord wanted, at all costs. What the hell was he going to do? What if he couldn't fulfill- no. No. He couldn't afford to think of that.

Sighing, he took one of his pillows and hugged it to him. His whole body curled around that pillow. He closed his eyes. All he could do was sleep and hope that the next day would be better. But he knew better than that. It wouldn't get better. Better wasn't an option when you were a Malfoy.

With a final thought drifting towards the mysterious person who said things were going to be okay, Draco found himself plunging into a dream... no, not a dream. His mind wasn't kind enough to relieve him of his worries when he slept. Nightmares. He dove into his own little personal world of nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N- Quick update before I dive into the dreaded world of homework! Hope you enjoy! Quick disclaimer. The song lyrics that come up in this chapter are in no way mine. All credit is due to All Time Low and their song "Jasey Rae" (If you haven't heard it, I suggest you look it up. The acoustic version is my favorite!) I also don't own Harry Potter, so there's that! _

_Big thank you to reviewers/favorites/follows! They motivate me to give you guys more! So please review! It would mean the world to me to know that you guys actually want to read more! _

_And that pretty much covers it! Thank you! Here's chapter three! Enjoy!_

_xxx_

* * *

The next morning, Draco woke up, refreshed. For once he had gotten enough sleep. While that might've not been the hardest task for the average human, it was an accomplishment in his eyes. He had sneaking suspicion that it might've been because of a certain letter under his pillow.

Groggily, he got up and rubbed his eyes, running a hand through his messy hair. Today he would be going to Diagon Alley. While most people looked forward to this, he didn't. He knew this would be a trip to tie up some loose ends. The Vanishing Cabinet. He had to get the death eaters in somehow, didn't he? He just hoped that everything would turn out fine.

Getting out of bed, he walked to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the lights, took off his clothes, and got in the shower. As the warm water hit him, he sang.

_I've never told a lie_

_And that makes me a liar. _

_I've never made a bet_

_But we gamble with desire. _

_I've never lit a match with intent to start a fire_

_But recently the flames are getting out of control._

His voice, soft and sweet, filled every corner with of the bathroom. Beautiful. Most people didn't know that Draco could sing. In fact, the only person who did was his mother, who used to sing him lullabies at night. Her voice was beautiful too. It was one of the few things that comforted Draco in this world. But lately, his mother had not been walking around the house humming simple tunes. _Let's face it, there just wasn't the time for that._

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed a towel dried himself. He missed his mother's singing.

After slicking his hair back like usual and putting on his customary black suit, he made his way downstairs and sat down at the breakfast table where he found his father and mother. It was early. The others wouldn't be waking up for a while.

"Son."

"Father."

"You know what today is about right?"

Draco nodded.

"Good, hurry up and eat your breakfast. We will be heading out in twenty minutes. I expect you to be ready. I won't stand for failures." Lucius got up from the table and headed to his study.

Sighing, Draco picked up his fork and played around with the food on his plate.

"Don't mind your father, Draco. You know he is under a lot of pressure here. We all are."

He nodded curtly.

His mother gave him a tight smile, "Eat your food, son. Your father doesn't like to be kept waiting."

He did as was told, not finding his breakfast particularly appetizing that morning.

* * *

Before meeting his father at the gates, he headed up to his room, surprised to find an owl there waiting for him with another white envelope.

Curiously, he detached the letter from the owl and took it out of its envelope.

_Dear Someone, _

_I am excited today due to the fact that I will be heading down to Diagon Alley with my best friends to shop for my school stuff. Since most people are doing their shopping today, I thought you might be too. So, I made a little arrangement._

_Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Go there after your shopping and tell the person at the register that you are there because a friend told you to be there. _

_Have fun and best of luck trying to get all your shopping done!_

_-A friend_

Draco raised his eyebrows. Why in the world would this person be sending him there? Debating on whether or not to follow the directions of the letter, he heard his father call from below. Sighing, he put the letter under his pillow just like the last and headed down the stairs once more.

Once apparating to Knockturn Alley alongside his father, they both quietly made their way down to Borgin and Burkes.

Walking into the shop, Draco shivered. It was cold and dark. The light and happiness from the streets of Diagon Alley completely vanished. Showtime.

As he and his father neared the store clerk, he put a smirk on his face.

"Borgin," Lucius drawled out.

Mr. Borgin looked up to see the two blonde heads of two of the most well-known wizards in the Wizarding World.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy," he said carefully.

His father smirked. "I have a little something that I think you might be able to help my son with?"

Mr. Borgin looked between the two Malfoys and nodded slightly. "How may I be of assistance?"

It was Draco's turn to speak. "It has come to my attention that you are in possession of a vanishing cabinet, am I correct?"

Mr. Borgin eyed him carefully before nodding slowly. "You would assume correct. But I am afraid it is not for sale. It's a very valuable piece in our collection."

Lucius inhaled slowly. "Do you have a family Borgin?"

Mr. Borgin's eyes hardened. "You can't threaten me, Lucius Malfoy."

"Maybe I can." With a smirk, Draco lifted up his arm and rolled up his sleeve, showing him the dark mark that was tainted on his forearm.

"I'm good friends with Fenrir Greyback. And I can send him your way _any_ time I want, is that clear?" Draco smirked as the man in front of him grew pale. "You are going to help me. Or you are going to suffer the consequences. Are we clear?"

The man nodded slowly, finally giving in. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

"Harry! Where are you going?"

"I saw Malfoy going this way, come on!"

"Um... I don't think this is such a good idea Harry..."

The trio had parted from the rest of the Weasley clan that afternoon to wander around Diagon Alley. Somehow they had made their way to Knockturn Alley. They were about to head back when Harry spotted the trademark pale blonde hair, and here they were.

"Harry, I don't understand why we have to follow Malfoy..." Hermione started.

"Seriously Mione?! His father is a follower of You-Know-Who, and that puts him on our 'not to be friendly' with list. Not that the bugger was ever on the list before..." Ron grumbled.

Hermione sighed. They both had a point, but there was just something about this that made her extremely uneasy.

The three of them observed the young Malfoy head into Borgin and Burkes.

"He's up to something," Harry muttered.

"Aren't they always up to something?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "You don't think Malfoy is a..."

"What? Death eater? I'm surprised he wasn't born one." Ron scoffed.

"No, seriously Ronald. Do you guys think he took on the mark?"

Harry shrugged slightly. "He looks different."

"But to take the _mark_, Harry that's a whole different level-"

"Yes Hermione! But do you realize who his _father _is? Who his bloody _aunt _is?! She murdered my uncle. I wouldn't be surprised if he were one! And anyway, why are you defending him?! You get the worst of his insults!"

Hermione looked down and nodded slightly. He had a point.

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry... it's just-"

"No, it's okay. Sirius. I get it."

* * *

Lucius turned to his son, "Go look around and see if you find anything useful. I've got it from here."

Draco nodded and left the two men to their devices knowing that Borgin would supply his father with the exact information they both needed.

Walking down an aisle, he saw a familiar artifact.

The hand of glory. He remembered coming across it a few years back.

"_Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers!_"

Smirking, he took the hand. His father hadn't allowed him to purchase the artifact years back, but this time, he was sure he could find use for it. _And let's face it. He wanted that hand. _

Going over to the next aisle, something caught his eyes.

It was a necklace, beautiful. He was about to touch it when he saw a sign below that read:

**Opal Necklace**

_B__eware. Any human contact will curse you. Notoriously known to have killed fourteen muggles in its past. Use this to do your dirty work for you. _

Draco furrowed his brow. This would definitely be of use. He took a cloth sitting on the shelf right above it and wrapped it around the necklace, careful not to touch it. And with that, he walked back over to his father and the store owner.

"And so that is that," Borgin finished off. He was still visibly shaken.

Lucius smirked and turned to Draco, "All arrangements have been made with the cabinet son. Did you find anything useful?"

* * *

Ron shook Harry's shoulder gently. "Mate, they're exiting the shop."

Harry and Hermione both turned at the same time to see the father and son exit. Lucius was empty handed, but Draco held a bag in his hand. Draco exchanged a few words with Lucius before Lucius disapparated. Draco looked around for a moment before turning to their direction and walking their way.

"Quick! Hide!" Ron whispered loudly. The trio quickly hid around a corner, silent until Malfoy walked past them before collectively letting out a breath.

"What do you suppose was in the bag?" Ron frowned, watching the back of the blonde haired head until it turned a corner.

"I don't know... it could be anything. They sell some... rather, dark stuff in that shop."

"Oh come on you two." Hermione stood up from her hiding place and began to walk towards the shop.

"Hermione! What are you doing?"

"Investigating! Are you two coming or?"

Harry and Ron both looked at each other before looking back at her. "Maybe it's best if we sit this one out. I mean, wouldn't it be a little suspicious if we walked in _right _after they left?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued walking down Knockturn Alley. Soon enough she was at the door of Borgin and Burkes. Something about the place gave her shivers, but she entered the shop anyhow.

"Hello Miss. May I help you?"

Hermione walked up to the store owner whom she assumed to be either Borgin or Burke. He was an old man, and looked rather shaken. She frowned slightly.

"Um, yes. Is this a good time?"

"Of course ma'am, what do you need?"

"I uh... I couldn't help but notice Mr. Malfoy walk in to you-"

The man's face hardened. "You need to leave. Now."

"But-"

"Do not make me ask you again. Out the door! Now!"

"I just-"

"NOW."

Hermione jumped slightly at the sudden tone in the man's voice. She ran out of the shop and didn't stop running until she made it back to her boys.

They both looked at her with hopeful eyes and all she could do was shake her head, breathless. "N-Nothing."

The two boys sighed.

"Well, it was worth a shot." Ron smiled slightly and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Let's get out of here, this place creeps me out."

* * *

Draco walked down the streets of Diagon Alley. All the happy people around him disgusted him. He didn't know how these people could casually stroll around and pretend nothing was wrong. Children laughing, parents smiling. It was quite sickening, really.

Draco had full intentions of heading home after a quick walk, that was what he had told his father, but somehow he ended up in front of the line at the ice cream parlor. Well... as long as he was here...

"May I help you?"

"Er... yeah, a friend told me to be here."

The store owner raised his eyebrows slightly, looking him over. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"One second."

The man disappeared and came back with a huge tub of ice cream. Huge. "There you go. Have a nice day."

Draco looked at the man curiously."You mean I don't have to pay for this?"

The man shook his head. "All expenses have been taken care of."

Draco nodded once more and walked out. Not being able to apparate, he took out a small key. A portkey to his room. Before he knew it, he was sitting on his bed.

Carefully, he opened the tub of ice cream and found familiar handwriting on the inside of the lid.

_Dear someone, _

_Let's say your time at Diagon Alley wasn't too exciting. Well, I hope this makes up for it. Wish for any flavor, and your wish will be its command. _

_-A friend._

For the first time all day, Draco smiled. Closing his eyes, he wished for chocolate ice cream and sure enough, when he opened his eyes, there was chocolate ice cream.

Putting the lid back on the tub, he set it down on his bedside table, walking over to his desk. Taking out his quill and some parchment, he wrote a quick response.

_Dear Friend, _

_Thank -you. _

_-Someone._

He sent the letter with his owl and plopped down on the floor of his room. Summoning a spoon, he took the tub of ice cream and indulged in the chocolaty goodness.

* * *

"Florean, did they come for the ice cream?" Hermione asked at the end of the day.

"They did, Miss. Granger. I was rather surprised as to who turned up to collect the surprise."

Hermione couldn't ignore the dying curiosity building up inside her, but something made her not question the identity of the person. Maybe the person had a point. Maybe it was best they didn't know each other.

Later that night, Hermione received the thank you owl and smiled. She was going to have a lot of surprises in store for this person.


End file.
